Dead Even

Chapter 15

“I CAN’T DO THIS,” SARA SAID, PUSHING CONRAD BACK after a couple of seconds. “It’s not right.”

“What’s not right? My kissing or-”

“Any of it. All of it. The whole thing,” Sara said. Her hands were trembling as she got up from her seat on the sofa. She shouldn’t have waited. She should’ve pulled away quicker.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “I thought you-”

“Conrad, I care a great deal about you, but I’m still married. And while I may be annoyed with Jared, that doesn’t mean I should betray him.”

“But-”

“Please don’t say anything else,” she stuttered. Searching for people to blame, she was coming up empty. “I admit – I liked it, but I shouldn’t have done it.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Finally, Conrad said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I was-”

“No, it’s okay.” She tried to sound as convinced as possible. “It’s late… We’ve been working hard… We’re both tired. You flirted with me and I flirted right back.”

“I know, but that still doesn’t make it okay.”

“Nothing’s going to make this one okay. Let’s just call it a night.”

Conrad stood from his seat and headed for the door. “If you want, I drove in today – so if you need a ride home…”

“Thanks,” Sara said. Pausing a moment, she added, “Actually, maybe I should just take a cab.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice trailing off.

As he was about to leave the office, Conrad turned around. “Sara, I really am sorry. And I know this may seem like a lame excuse, but for that one moment, it truly did seem like the right thing to do.”

“I know,” Sara said, replaying the scene in her head. Being angry with Jared made it so easy. “That’s what scares me.”

Standing in the bathroom, Jared leaned toward the mirror above the sink and carefully removed the gauze pad from his chin. He winced when he saw the oval gash that Kozlow had left him. Although the bleeding had long since stopped, the cut was still extremely tender. Trying hard not to stare at it, Jared reached under the sink and took out some cotton balls and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. This one’s going to hurt, he thought as he wet the cotton with the colorless antiseptic. Holding his breath, he lightly dabbed his chin. In the mirror, he could see the yellow-white pus that was just beginning to form around the edges. And while that signaled the first step of the healing process, Jared knew the pain was just beginning.

It took Sara another half hour to realize she wasn’t going to get any more work done. Conrad’s kiss had shined the spotlight on something she’d never wanted to see, and regardless of how much she tried to focus her mind elsewhere, she couldn’t stop thinking about every detail of the incident. As she hailed a cab, she kept asking herself the same question. How? How could she do it? She wanted to blame it on an external source: Anger. Loneliness. Frustration. But as her cab headed back uptown, past Carmine’s, and Ollie’s, and John’s Pizzeria, and every other restaurant that reminded her of her husband, Sara finally faced the hard truth about her late-night encounter: While it was happening, she’d enjoyed it. And the only person she could blame was herself.

By the time she returned to her apartment, there was only one person Sara wanted to see – and when she entered her bedroom, she was surprised to find him on her bed. Fully dressed and lying on top on the covers, Jared was sound asleep. Sara kicked off her shoes just loud enough to wake him.

“Sorry,” Jared said, rubbing his eye “I called, but you weren’t here. If it’s okay, I was hoping I could sleep here tonight.”

Sara stared at her husband. On any other night, this would’ve been a fight. Tonight, though, she could only say, “Of course. Whatever you want.”

When he woke up the next morning, Jared considered not going in to the office. He knew he had an imposing amount of work to do if he expected to be ready for trial, but he couldn’t help but think that a relaxing mental-health day might be the best way to recharge his batteries. When he turned over and saw that Sara had already left for work, however, he kicked off the covers and jumped out of bed. Regardless of how tired he was, regardless of how exhausted, he couldn’t let her win.

An hour later, Jared arrived at the office, briefcase in hand. As he rode the elevator to the forty-fourth floor, he thought about running on the treadmill in the gym. That was always the best method for clearing his head. But, once again, fear outweighed personal time, and anxiety outweighed relaxation. By the time Jared opened the door to his office, his mind was racing with trial strategies.

“You’re late,” a voice said as Jared stepped inside.

Jared jumped. It was Rafferty.

“For a man who’s behind on points, you’re getting an awfully late start on the day,” Rafferty said, leaning back in Jared’s leather chair.

“It’s not even eight yet.”

“Big deal. Sara got in by a quarter after seven.”

Jared dropped his briefcase on his desk. “Is there anything else you want, or are you just here to threaten me after yesterday’s debacle?”

“I don’t need to threaten you anymore, Jared. You understand the consequences.” Rafferty then put his hand on a sealed envelope and slid it across Jared’s desk. “I’m just here to show you what else is happening while you’re so busy drowning.”

Jared opened the envelope, pulled out a small stack of photographs, and flipped through them. The first few photos were of Sara and Conrad talking, while the last few were of his wife and Conrad kissing. His face went white.

“And you’ve been wondering why she’s spending so much time at the office,” Rafferty said.

“Who took these?” Jared asked, his eyes still glued to the photos. “When were they taken?”

“Last night. An associate in their office took them for us. He does great work, don’t you think?”

Jared rushed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Rafferty asked.

Jared didn’t respond as he stormed out.

Jared barged through the metal detector on Sara’s floor, ignored the sign-in sheet, and walked right past the security guard. “Hey, get back here!” the guard called. “Visitors have to sign in!”

As Jared marched down the hallway, he announced in a loud voice, “I’m looking for Sara Tate. Where is she?” A secretary pointed down the hall.

By the time Jared caught sight of Guff at his desk outside Sara’s office, the security guard had caught up with Jared and seized him by the arm. “Do you know this guy?” the guard asked Guff.

“Yeah,” Guff said nervously. “He’s okay.”

“Next time, sign in,” the guard told Jared.

“Thanks,” Jared said, pulling free of the guard’s grip.

“I guess you want to see Sara?” Guff asked.

Without answering, Jared barreled past Guff and threw Sara’s door wide open. As it crashed into the wall, Sara looked up from her desk, startled. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked, covering the papers on her desk. “I’m working here.”

“I need to speak to you for a moment,” Jared demanded.

Recognizing the gravity of her husband’s tone, Sara shoved the papers back into their file folder. “Guff, can you leave us alone for a second?”

“Sure thing,” Guff said, exiting the office and shutting the door.

Sara and Jared stared at each other. “Are you having an affair?” he asked in a low voice.

Sara’s mouth dropped open and she looked away.

“Sara, please look at me,” Jared said, his voice cracking. “We’ve always been honest with each other. Now answer my question: Last night, did you kiss Conrad?”

“Who said we kissed?”

“Who said we…? I can’t believe you!” Jared yelled. “You’re lying! You’re fucking lying to me!”

“Do you have someone spying on this office?” Sara asked accusingly. She looked out her window to see who could see in. Across the air shaft was a row of dusty windows to other ADAs’ offices.

“Don’t you dare change the subject,” Jared said. “You betrayed me, and now you want to turn it around? You’re the one who cheated on me!”

“First of all, lower your voice. Second, I didn’t cheat on you. It wasn’t like that. Conrad tried to kiss me, but I pulled away.”

“So your lips never touched?”

“No,” Sara shot back. “They didn’t.”

Pausing, Jared fought to contain himself. He felt a sharp pain at the base of his neck. Finally, he exploded. “Sara, I saw the damn pictures with my own eyes! I saw them! You were kissing him on this couch! This couch right here!”

“I don’t know what pictures you saw, but I pulled away immediately! Nothing happened.”

“First you say your lips never touched, then you say you pulled away. How the hell do you expect me to believe you?”

“Jared, I just do.”

“Well, you can take that load of bullshit and sell it somewhere else. You’re in no position to ask for trust.”

“And you are?” Sara asked.

“I didn’t cheat on my wife.”

“No, you just rifled her briefcase last night.”

“What?” Jared asked, forcing a laugh.

“I heard you, Jared. I heard every move you made last night. And when I turned over, I saw you. You must think I’m an idiot, though – after what happened last time, do you really think I’d bring important files home with me? I was testing you. You failed. So stop lying to my face.”

His lips pursed in anger and his arms crossed, Jared just stood there. Eventually, he said, “Fine, I admit it. You caught me. But don’t think this comes close to what you did with Conrad. This isn’t some damn file, it’s our marriage!”

“It’s our trust! And when you went through my briefcase-”

“Your briefcase? You’re equating this with your briefcase? Did you hear what I said? This is our marriage, Sara! Our marriage!”

“I know what’s at stake, Jared! I’m not blind!” Sara shouted, getting up from her seat. “But I’m telling you, nothing happened! It was just a kiss-”

“Just a kiss?”

“And I pulled away! Now stop rubbing my nose in it!” Sara yelled, pointing a finger at her husband.

He grabbed her firmly by the wrist. “Get your hand out of my face.”

“Don’t touch me!” she shouted as she wrestled out of his grip. “I can have you disbarred! You’re a thief!”

“Well, at least I’m not a whore!”

With a quick swing, Sara slapped Jared across the face.

Holding his cheek, Jared stared at his wife and saw something he had never seen. “You never should’ve done it, Sara. You ruined it.”

“Jared, I swear to you. We never-” Before she could finish, Jared headed for the door. “Please… just listen.” She reached for him and grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for that. Now let go.” He tried to pull away, but Sara held fast. “I said, let go!” he shouted. “It’s over!” With a sharp tug, he freed his arm, and the resulting momentum sent Sara smashing into a file cabinet.

Suddenly, the door to the office flew open. “What the hell are you doing?” Conrad asked Jared.

Without a word, Jared pulled back and took a swing at Conrad. Easily dodging the punch, Conrad grabbed Jared’s arm and, in one motion, twisted it behind his back and slammed him facedown on Sara’s desk.

“Get the hell off me,” Jared said as people began to collect outside the office.

“Conrad, let him go,” Sara said.

Releasing Jared, Conrad said, “Don’t ever try to hit me again. Next time I’ll break your arm.”

“Next time I’ll connect,” Jared warned.

“We’ll see.”

Jared took one last look at his wife, then pushed through the small group of onlookers and made his way to the elevators.

“What was that about?” Conrad asked Sara.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“I didn’t ask how you were doing. I asked-”

“It’ll be okay,” she added, turning away from Conrad. “I’ll get through it.”

When he got out of Sara’s office building, Jared headed straight for the Franklin Street subway. As he ran down the stairs, he could hear the rumble of a train pulling into the station. He cleared the turnstile just as the light chime sounded that preceded the closing of the doors. He made a mad dash for the train. “Hold it!” he screamed to one of the train’s conductors, who was leaning out a window. But the doors shut in his face.

“C’mon,” he said, hitting the doors. “Open up!”

The doors stayed shut.

“Please!” he yelled. He wedged his fingers into the protective rubber between the doors and attempted to pull them open. They stayed shut.

“No!” he protested, once again banging the doors with his fists. As the train slowly pulled away from the platform, Jared ran with it, hoping to somehow still climb aboard. “C’mon!” he screamed. “Don’t fuckin’ leave!” But the train plowed forward and picked up speed, even as the tears rolled down Jared’s cheeks. It was no use. He couldn’t stop it. In a flash, the train was gone, and Jared stood on the platform. Alone.

A half hour after Jared left, Sara called her husband’s office. “Is he back yet?” Sara asked Kathleen.

“Not yet,” Kathleen said. “I’ll leave him a message you called.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sara called again.

“Sorry,” Kathleen said. “Still not back.”

Hanging up, Sara called home. Then she called Pop’s apartment. Nothing but answering machines.

Ten minutes passed before she tried his office again.

When Kathleen answered, she said, “Sara, I promise, the moment he comes in here, I’ll have him call you.”

A half hour later, Sara’s phone rang. “Jared?” she answered.

“It’s me,” Kathleen said. “He just walked in.”

“Please put him on.”

“I already asked him, but he doesn’t want to take your call. I just figured you’d want to know that he’s back here safe and sound.”

“No, I do,” Sara said. “Thanks, Kathleen.”

“Jared?” Sara called out when she got home that evening. “Are you here?”

When she didn’t get an answer, she walked to Jared’s closet in the bedroom and opened it up. It was cleaned out. All of his suits were gone. So were his shirts. All that remained were some bad ties and empty hangers. “No. No, no, no.” She ran to his dresser and yanked the top drawer open. Empty, it came flying from the dresser, catching Sara by surprise. Throwing it aside, she pulled open the next one. And the next one. And the next one. Socks, underwear, and undershirts were all missing. “You can’t leave!” she yelled, slamming the last drawer shut. “Not now.” She had never expected it to happen like this. Everything had been going her way. She had the research, and the evidence, and the motions, and even the judge. It was all supposed to work out. It was all supposed to be okay. But as Sara hid her head in her hands, she knew that when all was said and done, it wasn’t going to be much of a victory.

Jared dragged his stuffed-to-capacity hanging bag through the stark white halls of New York Hospital. He took the elevator to the tenth floor and made his way to room 206. Leaving his luggage outside the room, he knocked on the door.

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally decided to pay a visit,” Pop said as Jared walked inside. “What brings you here? I mean, besides guilt.”

“Can’t I just say hello? Phone calls are fine, but there’s nothing like a personal visit.”

“Jared, that moonshine might work with those gullible, group-thinking juries, but I’m not buying a drop of it. The only reason you’re here is either, one, Sara made you come; or two, you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t say that, Pop. With my parents and grandmothers in Chicago, you’re the only family I have in New York.”

“Okay, so you’re in trouble. How much money do you need?”

“I don’t need any money,” Jared said, pulling a chair up to Pop’s bed. “Now why don’t you tell me how you’re doing. When are they letting you out of here?”

“When I’m better. Or if you want to believe my doctor, when they can get me walking again, which could be anywhere from two weeks to a month. There – now you’ve paid your moral debt. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

“It’s nothing,” Jared said, forcing confidence into his voice. “Sara and I are just struggling with this case we’re both working on.”

“The Kozlow case.”

“Yeah, how’d you-”

“What, you think I’m not listening when my granddaughter speaks to me? My ears may be longer and hairier than yours, but they work just as well. And I knew from the moment this case started it would be a mess. You and Sara are competitive enough – you don’t need a trial to put you at each other’s throats.”

“It’s not the trial so much as what’s going on around it.”

“What else is going on? Is she sick? Pregnant? Are you finally going to wise up and have a kid?”

“No, Pop, she’s not pregnant,” Jared said, fidgeting with the nurse’s calling device on Pop’s nightstand. “She’s just been pushing all the right buttons lately – for a while now, everything’s been going her way.”

Pop stared at Jared and smiled. Finally, he said, “You don’t like the fact that she’s beating you at your own game.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s about more than just winning-”

“Jared, you know that saying about bullshitting the bullshit artist?” Pop interrupted.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let me put it to you this way: I’m Picasso. And if you think I believe you when you tell me it’s not about winning, you’re dabbling in finger paints. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been obsessed with success. You’ve been the golden boy, and Sara’s been the one who’s struggled. But now that the shoe’s on the other foot, you’re realizing that it’s a bitch to wear high heels.”

“This has nothing to do with ego. It’s bigger than that.”

“Son, you have to listen to what you’re saying. If everything you’ve told me is true, it sounds like Sara’s going to win this case – and the only person who isn’t facing that fact is you. You may be a great lawyer, but in this instance, Sara has you against the wall. So now you have a choice: You can keep doing what you’re doing and get your rear end handed to you, you can give up and admit defeat, which I know you’ll never do, or you can talk to her and work out a resolution that leaves you both happy. The decision is yours.”

With his eyes glued to the emergency call device in his hands, Jared knew that Pop was right about one thing: If he didn’t take drastic action soon, he was going to lose the case. And if he lost the case… Jared looked up at Pop, unwilling to entertain the consequences.

“Want to tell me about it?” Pop asked.

“I do,” Jared said. “It’s just… I can’t.”

“Then you better tell her. Keeping it bottled up is only going to make it explode in your face.”

As Pop’s words sank in, Jared put down the emergency call device. “You may be right.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t at Pop’s?” Tiffany asked, leaning on the edge of the plaza fountain at Lincoln Center.

“I went over there twice last night. As far as I can tell, he’s gone,” Sara said curtly as she stood next to her little sister. “Now can we please drop it?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” Tiffany pointed at a man in a navy beret. “There’s one.”

Sara looked at the man with the beret. “He doesn’t count. First, he doesn’t look tortured. Second, that’s not a black beret.”

“On the Upper West Side, that’s as good as you’re gonna get.”

“Are you nuts?” Sara asked. “You think all the good tortured artists are living in the Village? You just have to look harder in this neighborhood.”

Staring at the crowds of people passing through Lincoln Center’s vast esplanade, Tiffany stuffed her hands in the pockets of her pink winter coat. “I’m getting cold and the game’s no fun.”

“What do you want me to do? Set up a shuttle to the Guggenheim?”

“No, I just want you to be nice,” Tiffany shot back. “It’s bad enough that our visits are now every other week – the least you can do is enjoy being with me.”

Surprised by the outburst, Sara put her hand on Tiffany’s shoulder and pulled her in. “I’m really sorry, kiddo. I haven’t been my best lately.”

Tiffany looked up at her big sister. “Is it because you miss him?”

“Yeah, that’s part of it.”

“Then maybe you should do something about it. Maybe you can get off the case.”

“You don’t understand. It’s not that easy.”

“I don’t care if it’s easy,” Tiffany said, still pressed against Sara. “I just want things back to normal. And the longer you two are mad at each other, the worse it is for the rest of us.”

Later that evening, Sara and Tiffany ate dinner at Sylvia’s soul-food restaurant in Harlem, home of Lenox Avenue’s most famous smothered fried chicken. When they walked out of the restaurant, Sara looked up into the flat black sky. “I’ll bet you a basket of corn bread that the first snow of the year hits in the next two days.”

“If I didn’t feel like I was going to vomit, I’d take that bet,” Tiffany said as she held her stomach.

Smiling, Sara stepped into the street and hailed a cab. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark-blue sedan waiting across the street. She and Tiffany got into the cab, and Sara gave the driver Tiffany’s address. As the cab took Sara and Tiffany deeper into Harlem, Sara turned around and noticed that the sedan was now behind them.

“Do me a favor,” Sara said to the cabdriver. “Head down a few of these smaller streets. I want to know if the car behind us is following us.”

Following Sara’s instructions, the driver turned off Lenox Avenue and onto 131st Street. The sedan didn’t follow.

“Who do you think it was?” Tiffany asked, staring out the back window.

“No one. Just my imagination,” Sara said, relieved. “You can go back now,” she told the driver.

For the next few minutes, as Sara and Tiffany sat in the back of the cab, Sara kept an eye out for the sedan. Without question, it was gone. The cab pulled up to Tiffany’s apartment building on 147th Street. “If you don’t mind waiting,” Sara said to the driver, “I’ll only be a minute.” Sara got out of the cab and walked Tiffany inside – she always liked to check in with Tiffany’s aunt at the end of each visit. After a brief conversation, Sara left the building and looked for her cab. It was gone. The only car in sight was the dark-blue sedan. The driver of the sedan, a pale man with a blond mustache, was leaning on the hood.

Sara reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. “DA’s office!” she yelled. “Who the hell are you?”

Unfazed, the driver of the sedan looked up and handed a folded sheet of paper to Sara.

“What’s that?” Sara asked suspiciously.

“It’s a new invention. We call it paper.”

“Very funny,” Sara said, grabbing it out of his hands. When she unfolded the piece of paper, she read the words GET IN THE CAR, POOH. Sara looked up at the driver. “Who wrote this?”

“No idea. All I know is where I’m supposed to take you. As long as I get paid in advance, I don’t care.”

She took a step away from the car.

“Don’t be afraid,” the driver said. “You’ll be safe.” Sara still wasn’t convinced.

“No offense, but if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it by now. Especially in this neighborhood – no one would suspect a thing. Now why don’t you get in the car?”

As she considered the man’s logic, Sara noticed that Tiffany was watching the events from her apartment window.

“See, now if anything bad happens, you even have your own witness,” the driver added.

To make sure Tiffany didn’t worry, Sara shot her a strained smile and moved toward the car. “Where are we going?” she asked the driver.

“Not allowed to say,” the driver said, looking over his shoulder. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Putting her faith in the message and taking one last look at Tiffany, Sara hesitantly got in the backseat of the car. For a half hour, the car headed downtown. The entire time, the driver kept his eyes on the rearview mirror. All through the Upper West Side, Sara thought they were going to Times Square. When they drove through Times Square, she thought they were going to the Village. When they drove through the Village, she thought they were going to her office building on Centre Street. And when they passed her office building, she said, “Where the hell is this place?”

“Ten more minutes,” the driver said.

The car turned toward the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge.

“We’re going to Brooklyn?” Sara asked nervously.

“You’ll see,” the driver said with a smile.

Taking a sharp right onto the first exit off the bridge, the driver headed through the quiet historic neighborhood of Brooklyn Heights. Passing rows of classic town houses, traditional clapboards, and one of George Washington’s houses, they headed straight for the riverfront Promenade, famous for its arresting view of lower Manhattan. The paved walkway was usually crowded with both locals and tourists, but the cold weather had a chilling effect on both the night and its population. “Last stop,” the driver said.

Frantically looking around, Sara didn’t see anyone.

“Get out of the car,” the driver said.

“Here? You expect me to get out here? Are you nuts?”

“Get out of the car. You’ll be thankful you did.”

Following the driver’s instructions, Sara got out and approached the window on the passenger side of the car. Leaning into the window, she asked, “Now what?”

“Wait here.” With that said, the driver rolled up the window and sped off.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Sara asked, banging on the window as the sedan pulled away. Surrounded by nothing but some scattered benches and a concrete walkway, Sara felt the cold wind of the East River whip across her face. Looking around, she still didn’t see anyone. She headed down the path toward the water. “Is anybody here?” she shouted. “Hello!”

“Sara,” a voice said from behind her.

“Who the-” she yelled, turning around. It was Jared. She reacted instantaneously. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” she said, embracing her husband. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry,” Jared said, pulling away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alone.”

“I’m definitely alone. In fact, I’ve been alone since last night.”

“You were the one who wanted me to move out.”

“You know this is different,” she said. “I couldn’t even find you at Pop’s.”

“Sorry about that. I just couldn’t face you after that thing with Conrad.”

“Jared, I swear on my life, nothing happened with Conrad. He went to kiss me, and I pulled away. Anyone who said it was more than that is lying.”

“Fine, they were lying,” Jared said, kicking at a random piece of nothing. “As usual, you’re right.”

“Don’t shut down on me,” Sara said.

Jared didn’t reply.

“Jared, please. If you didn’t want to get into this, why’d you call me out here?”

“I wanted to talk to you in privacy.”

“So you have some nutjob pick me up with a cryptic note that uses my dad’s old pet name for me? There are easier, less upsetting ways to get in touch.”

“I figured you’d know the note was from me. Who else would know that information?”

“You’d be surprised what a stranger can find out about you.” Sara sat down on a wooden bench, and Jared nodded silently in agreement. Carefully watching her husband, she added, “So if this isn’t about yesterday, what else do we have to discuss?”

“The case,” Jared said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have to talk about the case.”

Now Sara was annoyed. “Of course – the one thing in this world you actually care about.”

“Honey, you know that’s not-”

“It is true,” Sara insisted. “But let me break it to you: The trial’s in two weeks, the motions went our way, and when we’ve convicted Kozlow, we’re going to go after Claire Doniger and anyone else we see as an accomplice.”

Shaking his head, Jared pulled up the collar on his overcoat, trying to stay warm. The wind continued to beat against him. “Sara, I can’t fight with you anymore. It’s not worth it. I just want you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say. I wouldn’t even think of asking you this unless it was completely necessary.” Moving toward her, he explained, “This may sound crazy, but I need you to take a dive. Lose some evidence, do a bad job on purpose – I don’t care how you do it; I just need to win.”

Laughing, Sara said, “Are you really that desperate? I mean, do you even realize how illegal that is? And that’s without even considering the moral implications.”

“Screw the moral implications. This is far more important than morality.”

“Oh, that’s right – I forgot your job is more important than everything else in the universe.”

“Just listen for a second.”

“I am listening,” Sara interrupted, jumping from her seat. “And I can’t believe what you’re asking. When you had the upper hand, everything was fine and dandy. But the moment I’m finally doing well, you want me to roll over. You really have some set of balls, y’know that? This job has changed my life. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m back in control again. Things are going well; my confidence is strong; my anxieties are finally gone. This case has made me a new person. And if you think you can bully me into playing your game like you tried to do at the grand jury, you’re living in fantasyland. I’m only saying this once, Jared. You’re not taking this away from me.”

“You don’t understand,” Jared pleaded. “You have to let me win.”

“Have you been listening? I don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes. You do,” Jared said flatly.

“I can’t believe this. Is it an ego thing? Is that it? You can’t stand seeing me beat you for once?”

“This has nothing to do with competition,” Jared said, his forehead covered with sweat.

“Well, you can forget it,” Sara said, turning her back to her husband. “The only person bringing home a victory is me. Hope you can live with it.”

Jared grabbed Sara firmly by the arm. “Listen to me! It’s bigger than you think!”

“I already heard you. Now let go of me.”

Refusing to loosen his grip, Jared shouted, “Sara, I’m begging you one last time: You have to let me win.”

“Why? What the hell is so important?” Sara shouted back, struggling to free herself.

Finally, Jared realized he had no other choice. Still holding on to his wife, he looked into her eyes. “Because if I don’t win this case, they’re going to kill you!”

Instantly, Sara stopped trying to pull away. “What?”

“You heard me. They’ll kill you. The only reason I’m on this case is because they threatened to kill you if I dropped it. That’s why I’ve been fighting so hard. That’s why I’ve been pushing so much. And that’s why I went through your briefcase. They’ve been following both of us since Kozlow was first arrested. They’re the ones who broke into our house. And they’re the ones who-”

“Oh, my God,” Sara said, sinking back on a bench.

“This is serious, Sara. We’re in trouble.”

“The people who approached you – did one of them have sunken cheeks?”

“Sunken cheeks? No, I was approached by Kozlow and…” Jared paused.

“Kozlow and who?” Sara asked.

Jared glanced around to make sure they were still alone. Then he stared directly at his wife. “It’s Oscar Rafferty. He’s been there from the start. He’s the one who-”

“That lying sack of shit!” Sara shouted. “We knew it – Guff called it the moment we left his office. Rafferty had you, and Sunken Cheeks had me.”

“What’re you talking about? Who’s this man with the cheeks?”

Sara quickly related her encounter with Sunken Cheeks, explained how he had threatened to kill Jared, and described his untraceable fingerprints.

When she finished, Jared said, “So if you gave in, he would’ve come after-”

“That’s why I didn’t give in.”

“But if he’s the one responsible for hurting Pop, why didn’t you arrest him?”

“I have no idea who he is. Besides, I was so nervous about what he’d do to you, I was terrified to touch him.”

“I know how you feel,” Jared said. He sat down next to Sara and brushed his fingers against the gauze pad on his chin.

“Who was it, Kozlow?”

“Took a pound of flesh on his own,” Jared explained. “But it sounds like your guy was helping you. I mean, wasn’t he the one who put you on Rafferty’s trail?”

“Not at all. We found Rafferty on our own. He became a suspect as soon as we saw Arnold’s will.”

“Arnold had a will?”

“See, that’s the problem with you defense attorneys. All you care about is getting your client off. We prosecutors are the only ones searching for the truth.”

Ignoring the jab, Jared said, “Tell me about the will.”

“There’s not much to tell. According to our reading, Rafferty stands to inherit Echo Enterprises now that his near-and-dear partner is dead.”

“Oh, you must be kidding me – Rafferty gets the business?”

“The whole thing,” Sara said, noticing the look of disbelief on her husband’s face. “Why? What does that tell you? I mean, besides the fact that he has a reason to kill his partner.”

“That tells us why Rafferty was so intent on winning the case.” Running his hand through his hair, he added, “Damn, that mean bastard is brilliant.”

“Why? What’d he do?” Sara asked, slapping her husband on the arm. “Tell me already.”

“It’s actually pretty simple. Do you remember what a slayer statute is?”

“A what?”

“A slayer statute. Slayer. As in killer.” When Sara shook her head, Jared explained, “A slayer statute prevents murderers from profiting from their own killings. Let’s pretend you have a will. And the will says that if you die, I’m the main beneficiary. That means I get all your money.”

“All twenty-five bucks?”

“Every last nickel. So now let’s pretend that I try to get the money early by having you killed. Under the slayer statute, if it’s proven that I had anything to do with your death, I’m not allowed to get a dime, a nickel, or a penny – even if your will says I get it all.”

“Does New York have one of these statutes?”

“I don’t know if there’s an official statute, but the common law has the same rule.”

“Then why didn’t they just settle it?”

“As I remember it, you can impute foul play from any of the parties involved – which is why Rafferty couldn’t let Kozlow accept a plea bargain or anything less than a full acquittal.”

“So Rafferty is worried that if Kozlow is implicated in any way, and it’s discovered that Rafferty hired Kozlow, Rafferty’ll never get his nest egg.”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s nervous about his own murder charge. I mean, that’s the only thing that explains Rafferty’s concern with this whole mess. If he was innocent, he wouldn’t care at all. And if he wasn’t obsessed with the money, he would’ve let me plea-bargain it down.”

“Do you think he could also be trying to protect Claire Doniger?” Sara asked, standing up.

“You’re really convinced she’s involved with this, aren’t you?”

“C’mon, Jared. The woman’s husband is killed and she doesn’t shed a tear. More important, she doesn’t lift a finger to help our investigation. Talking to her is like pulling teeth, and getting her to testify is like… it’s like…”

“It’s like pulling teeth,” Jared said dryly.

“Yeah. Lots of teeth. A mouthful of teeth.”

“Okay, so if she’s involved, what’s her motive? Does she get anything under the will?”

“Not a cent. But that doesn’t mean anything. Our theory is that she and Rafferty are sleeping together. When they knock off Arnold Doniger, they get all the money and they get to play snuggle-bunnies every night. The only problem we were having was proving Rafferty’s involvement. But it’s clear that he’s the man we’re after.”

“It’s not a bad theory,” Jared admitted. “And now that I think about it, he does get superprotective whenever she comes up.”

“Is there anything else Rafferty’s said that we might be able to use against him?”

Jared sat back on the bench and put his head in his hands. “Actually, you can’t use any of this stuff against him. It’s all protected by attorney-client privilege.”

“I’m not worried about winning the case anymore, handsome. I just want to make sure you’re safe, and get us out of…” Noticing that her husband wasn’t moving, Sara stopped. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Without saying a word, Jared stood up and wrapped his arms around his wife. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Sara. I only did it because I was worried about you.”

Feeling a wave of relief run over her, Sara held her husband tight. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I was just as worried about you.”

“But I-”

“Shhhhh, don’t say another word,” Sara said, still holding him close. “It’s over. It’s finally over.” Leaning back just enough to look into Sara’s eyes, Jared realized she was right. And for the first time in months, he decided not to argue. Instead, he pulled her in and lightly slid his hands across her shoulders and down her back. He loved the way their bodies fit together. Against her cheek, Sara felt the familiar scratch of his five-o’clock shadow. Closing her eyes, she took in the smell of the cologne she always complained about. And with her arms around his waist, she reached under his jacket and caressed the curve in the small of his back. She had forgotten how much she missed it all.

Silently pressed against each other, Sara and Jared didn’t have to say a word. For too long, they had been at each other’s throats. Now, finally, they were in each other’s arms. And that was all that mattered. As reality slowly returned, Sara could feel Jared start to tremble. Moments later, his eyes welled up with tears. “It’s okay,” she reassured him as she struggled to fight back her own tears. But it was already too late – as was always the case, once Sara heard Jared sobbing, she wasn’t far behind. Soon, both of them were overcome with emotion. “It’s okay,” she repeated as tears ran down her cheeks. “It’s really okay.”

“I know,” Jared said, wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve. “Until you were safe, I couldn’t-”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Sara said, wiping her own eyes. “But we have to keep the catharsis short. Neither of us is really safe unless we get out of this mess.”

“No, you’re right,” Jared said, composing himself. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. “Okay, now what’s the next step?”

“Work the facts. Is there anything else that Rafferty or Kozlow might’ve said? Anything that might explain why Victor wanted the case? Or who Sunken Cheeks is? Is he a former employee? Does he have something against Rafferty? Has Kozlow mentioned any old grudges?”

“The only thing that caught me off guard is that Kozlow once said he was in the military.”

“Really? Which part?”

“Army. Lenny told me he got kicked out, but that’s all I know. Think there’s something there?”

“Maybe. Victor’s got a military background also. I’ll look into it first thing tomorrow.”

“Great. And can you also do a search on Rafferty’s phone bills? I tried already, but you’re the only one who can get his local calls. If your theory’s right, we should see tons of calls to Claire and to Kozlow.”

“And maybe to our mystery man with the cheeks.”

“Hopefully,” Jared said. “Maybe they’re all working together.” Looking up, Jared stared at the shimmering New York City skyline. It was beautiful, he thought. As beautiful as the first time he saw it from this spot, during a midnight biking tour he and Sara had taken at the end of their first year of law school. Jared took a deep breath and smiled. Finally, he was getting his life back. At that moment, he heard Sara laughing. “What’s so funny?” he asked, turning back to his wife.

“Nothing,” Sara said, her laughter a perfect mixture of nervousness and relief. “I just can’t believe this happened to us. I mean, why us?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it was just meant to be.”

“Uh-uh. This problem didn’t find us – I found this problem. If I hadn’t been so worried about myself, I wouldn’t have grabbed this case in the first place. And if I’d never grabbed it, you never would’ve been approached to-”

“Okay. That’s enough. We don’t need to play this game. You’ve had enough self-pity for one year.”

“It’s not self-pity. This is just me facing reality. If I’d never grabbed this case, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“You can believe whatever you want, but I’d never blame you for this. Now let’s get back to the real question: What do we do with the case?”

Pausing, Sara eventually said, “I’m not sure. Obviously, we can’t take it to trial.”

“Maybe we can go to the judge and ask him to remove us because of a conflict of interest,” Jared suggested. “Or maybe we can force a mistrial.”

“We can do either, but that doesn’t solve the problem.”

“I really don’t care about solving the problem,” Jared said. “I say we get off the case and get our lives back. Let someone else play superhero.”

“No way. This is our problem. Rafferty, Doniger, Kozlow, Sunken Cheeks, they’re all our problem. And no matter how much you’d like to believe otherwise, they’re not going to leave us alone until they get what they want.”

“Fine, then all we need to do is figure out a way to stop the psychopaths from chasing us. How about we both bow out, and then we tell them that if anything happens to us, our lawyer will send out a letter that fingers Rafferty?”

“Jared, you’re missing the big picture. Even if they leave us alone, we can’t let them do the same thing to someone else.”

“So now we have to forward Rafferty’s E-mail to the entire firm?”

“Don’t make fun – you know I’m right.” As she let the logic of her argument sink in, Sara added, “Like it or not, it’s our responsibility.”

Jared nodded his head. “What do you propose?”

“I’m not sure. I want to talk to Conrad tomorrow. He knows his way around this world better than anyone.”

“And what other worlds is he familiar with?”

“Oh, c’mon, Jared, why do you have to bring that up? I swear it was nothing. We kissed and I pulled away. That was it.”

Jared didn’t say a word.

Studying her husband’s reaction, Sara felt awful. Without a doubt, that fleeting kiss would haunt her forever. As she tried to figure out what to say, she realized no apology would ever be enough. But if she expected to move forward, she also realized she had to start somewhere. “Jared, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to-”

“Actually, this is exactly what I need,” she replied. “I really am sorry, honey. I’m so sorry I did this to you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could just wipe the whole thing from existence. And while I know that’s no excuse, I just hope you know one thing: The worst thing I can do in this world is hurt you. Nothing, absolutely nothing, causes me more pain.”

“So you’re not in love with him?”

“In love wi – Are you nuts? It was a moment in time – a misstep. You’re my whole world, Jared. Nothing means more to me. I trust you with everything.”

“If you trust me so much, why’d you spy on me with your briefcase?”

Sara reached over and tickled the back of his neck. “Baby, I was dead asleep the entire time. I only said that to test your reaction. Obviously, you failed, but I still trust you. And love you.”

With a sly smile, Jared said, “You’re ruthless, y’know that?”

“What can I say? Play with the best, you’re bound to get beat.”

“Sara, I swear I only did it because I was worried about-”

“I don’t care about that,” Sara said, taking Jared’s hand. “Let’s just have our make-up kiss and be done with it.”

“Here?” Jared asked, looking around at the completely deserted Promenade. “In front of all these people?”

“Of course here. It’s our perfect Hollywood moment. The intrepid heroes, the striking landmark, the windblown hair. It’s all in place. All we have to do is-” Interrupting herself, Sara leaned forward, grabbed her husband, and gave him a forceful kiss. For a minute, they stood there, lips locked and arms wrapped around each other. Once again, everything else faded away. When they were done, she asked, “How was that?”

Jared smiled. “It’s good to be home.”

“Couldn’t agree more. So you ready to get out of here?”

“Depends what we’re doing.”

“Well, right now, we’re putting together a puzzle. And the moment the picture is crystal clear, we’re going after the bastards who took it apart in the first place. If Rafferty thinks he’s got problems now, wait until his ass meets my foot.”

“I hope you’re right. Because if Rafferty gets wind of this, he’s not going to hold back – even if you are a DA.”

“That’s ADA to you. Now let’s go home.”

Standing behind a thick patch of overgrown shrubbery and shrouded by the low branches of an oak tree, he silently watched the couple leave the Promenade. He knew this would happen – he’d said it from the beginning. When the pressure got too high, they were going to snap.

He watched them walk up the concrete path toward Clark Street. They were coming directly at him, but in the darkness he wasn’t at all concerned. He didn’t even duck when they got close. He just leaned against the tree, his eyes tracking them as they passed right by him. He was tempted to reach out, but he fought the urge. Holding hands and swinging their arms, Jared and Sara walked with newfound confidence. They knew just about everything now. That is, everything but the fact that their secret wasn’t safe.